PROCEEDINGS OF THE FARMERS' CLUB. 125 



Eight acres of this worn-out Westchester county land, lying- in the cor- 

 ner of two roads, surrounded on two sides by them and their bordering of 

 old tumble-down stone walls and bushes; and on another side by a little 

 brook, with its broad margin of bushes and briars, and beyond a spot mis- 

 named a pasture; while on the fourth side it was separated from a pretty 

 well-kept place by a belt of undergrowth so thick that it served for a make- 

 shift fence; and this had been chosen for the "new home in the country." 



One from the city had previously made a home here, for here was his 

 unmistakable city mark — a three story house, close by the line of the high- 

 way, on a hillside, so that he could have his favorite basement for the 

 lower story, and an entrance from the second floor to the ground on the 

 other side, and yet, upon unlimited space, this house was only eighteen 

 feet wide, with its inevitable side hall and stairway, for so the city house 

 was built. 



Truly, a fool built this house, but no wise man will live in it, and so I 

 wondered at friend Solon's choice, but said little; for as he remarked, the 

 land lay well for cultivation, gently inclining to the southeast, with a 

 loamy soil, somewhat pebbly, with here and there rocks of gneiss cropping 

 out, as they do everywhere in the Central Park, and up the same ridge 

 north of it. 



That little building, which is a necessary appendage to a country house, 

 and which should hide away in obscurity, was prominently posted up by 

 the roadside near the front door, up the hill; and still further along the 

 road stood the stable, Verily, the fool, in a superlative degree, had been 

 here. 



There were some cherry trees; some fine old apple trees, and some others 

 going to decay; a few quince bushes, and the black knotted remains of 

 some plums; and one living peach tree. So the place was not purchased 

 as a "fruit farm," nor because it had a ready built house, convenient and 

 cheap. Though good land, within ten miles of Central Park, with a house, 

 if it was unfit for its situation, that cost $1,000 or more, could not be called 

 dear at the price paid for this. Indeed, at $2,000 it was remarkably cheap; 

 but it was not suited to the purpose for which it was bought — a home in 

 the country for a man of taste. Let us see how it has been made such a 

 home. I have never seen a greater change produced in a shorter time, nor 

 at less expense. It is worth the while of any person about to build a house 

 in the country to visit Solon Robinson and learn how to do it, and, what is 

 most important, do it cheaply. 



Instead of the uncouth house I first saw there, I found it had been moved 

 back upon a more level, handsome building spot, and by additions to three 

 sides of it, it has now become a really pretty cottage, with its long piazza 

 facing southeast, and looking down across the flower beds, and lawn, and 

 garden, upon the distant road, now bordered by a neat stone wall. 



Rocks and bushes have disappeared, and fruit and ornamental trees and 

 flower beds have taken their place. All around, such profusion of flowers 

 and shrubs, and pleasant things! That prominent little building, formerly 

 by the roadside, has hidden itself away quite out of sight in a clump of 

 evergreens ; and the old stable, with a large addition to it, occupies and 

 covers up a spot of bare rocks in the back ground unfit for cultivation, and 



